The Divine Hunter

Alphonse Willie's room.

The dim magic lamp illuminated several faces with different expressions.

Roy looked out of the corner of his eye--five well-equipped thugs, whose melee attributes were better than the twenty or so bodyguards outside the house.

A sorcerer, the man named Chester that I saw last time at the Vanilla Inn, with a silver Anka shining magic light around his neck. Seventy-five years old is still young, and in terms of his skills, his magic cultivation is not very consummate.

At least far less than Rita Need.

The five bodyguards and the warlock respectfully guard not far from the boss.

Eyes vigilantly scrutinize visitors.

The placket under the armor was held up high by the muscles, maintaining the most favorable posture for shooting.

Obviously, the ruler of the Willie Gang had guarded himself from beginning to end.

"Master Roy, just sit down..."

"Speak frankly and honestly, do you have any unspeakable secrets that you have to talk to me face to face?"

A raspy rasp sounded, and the man turned the chair and turned his head, revealing a thin, gloomy face.

The long and narrow slits of the eyes hide deep madness, and the hooked nose and thin lips look extremely mean.

And pale cheeks with overindulgent dark circles and red spots.

Alphonse Wiley

Sex: Male

Age: 42

Identity: Boss of the Willy Gang (single-handedly developed the Willy Gang from a small ant-like gang to a giant in Novigrad, one of the four major gangsters, the rule has been maintained for twelve years), poet

...

"If you suffer from some strange disease, I can call in the best famous doctor in the whole North; if you want to find someone, mobilize the strength of the whole gang, search Novigrad, and dig three feet to find it for you. But you have to On behalf of the Willie Gang, win the Fist of Wrath soon!"

"Boss Alphonse, the next words involve personal sex." Roy shook his head and glanced at the bodyguards, "Can you take a step to speak?"

"Don't worry,

Except for Master Chester, they are all children I have raised since childhood. They are absolutely loyal and tight-lipped." Alphonse lay paralyzed in the swivel chair, tapping his index finger on the desk rhythmically, "Even if they die, it will not be revealed. Your secret, I guarantee it by the name of the Willie family. "

"If you insist on such an unreasonable request..." The man propped his hands on the table with his elbows, the backs of his overlapping hands supported his chin, and stared at the witcher with aggravated tone, "I can only think that you have ulterior motives!"

"That's what you say." Roy shrugged and sat on the opposite chair, across a desk, with dark gold's pupils unblinking, "Boss Alphonse, I want to visit this time. Let me ask you a question in person."

"Tell me."

Roy took a deep breath and questioned word by word,

"If I don't go back to Novigrad, what will happen to old Moore and the others? Tortured and tortured to death by you, and then becoming the protagonist of your next poem that doesn't rhyme and doesn't make sense?"

"Shh-"

In an instant, the blade was unsheathed, and the five bodyguards surrounded Roy, gasping from their nostrils, glaring at him.

"Witcher, I only warn you once, never insult my efforts, not even a word!" Alphonse took a deep breath, the anger flashed on his face, and his trembling index finger swayed in front of the witcher. , almost poked him in the face, spitting out, "The guy who did this last time has already been thrown into the sea by me and planted a nest of corals. Do you want to go down and be with her?!"

The witcher was expressionless.

"Huh... Now back to the topic, are you misunderstanding? The three sinners who bullied Old Moore have already been punished. You have seen the hands and tongues. Are you still not satisfied and have to take their lives? "

"This is different from what I heard about." Roy raised his face slightly. "Before this, the three Vincent guys clearly told me clearly that you assigned them to torture Old Moore."

Alphonse was silent for two seconds, then suddenly sneered,

"Why do witchers always like to get to the bottom of things? It's superfluous."

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head in disdain.

"What can you do if you know the truth?! You are so young, can't you find fault with yourself?"

"Do you want to fight against the gang for the sake of insignificant little people?" Alphonse's slender eyes flashed coldly, he repeatedly questioned, and described beauty, "As long as you cooperate with me, beauty, status, wealth, you can use it. Win the game, take ownership of that borderless land, and you get a piece of the pie and develop a personal estate."

"From now on, I will no longer have to wading through the turbid stinky ditch, going into the poor countryside to accompany water ghosts, and accepting dirty and dangerous commissions for one or two hundred crowns!"

"Fight to the death, no dignity!"

It has to be said that this condition is quite attractive to any witcher.

"A simple account, even a born imbecile can understand it. Do you have to be a fool and have trouble with money?"

After Alphonse finished speaking, he slumped back in the swivel chair.

"The last piece of advice, except for money, everything in the world will spoil!"

"A tempting proposal, but I'm sorry, I only have one purpose to see you this time-" Roy sat on the chair and looked around. The five bodyguards who were close at hand held down the hilt of the sword, ready to launch a thunderous strike at any time. , Warlock guarded by Alphonse's side, mana surged, and the fingertips were filled with the glow of the elements...

He smiled suddenly, and Anjin's pupils shrank into prisms, like a poisonous snake that locked its prey and twisted its body.

"Count your mother's account!"

Stunned!

The five guards who were staring at them trembled in an instant, and their irises reflected the creeping tentacles, their faces were terrified, and they lost control of their bodies.

The witcher stretched out his hand abruptly, and his slender and powerful palm grabbed a snow-bright blade as thin as a cicada's wings out of thin air.

Twist.

"Shh-"

A half-moon-shaped piece of training emerged, and five blood flowers bloomed.

The five big men clutched their blood-gushing necks and fell silently, their neat and gorgeous desk stained with scarlet.

Alphonse Willie, who has been in the killing field for a long time, has also been assassinated many times. Seeing this, he pushed the edge of the table without any confusion, and slid back in a swivel chair.

And beside him, the male warlock Chester took a step forward, a scorching flame drilled out of his palm, and the destruction of the fireball was about to take shape.

"Whoosh-"

In an instant, the witcher grabbed a crossbow out of thin air.

Pull the trigger and shoot an arrow in the face, the tail feathers swaying like a meteor.

The arrow hits the warlock's neck.

With a "Boom", the light blue translucent magic shield trembled slightly and returned to normal.

One arrow is not enough to break the shield.

But Chester didn't have time to be happy, and his face froze instantly.

Although the arrow was deflected, there was a strange power that had never been seen before, and it penetrated the shield and enchanted robe unimpeded, as if a bolt of lightning struck the soul.

Chester's eyes were white, and he fell into a strange sluggishness and dizziness.

The fireball technique that was being cast was completely interrupted, the flame in his palm was extinguished, and the huge backlash made his seven orifices seep blood and let out a muffled groan.

"Shh-"

The witcher jumped and landed lightly, and Guversil cut a straight line horizontally.

The head is thrown away.

The splattered blood poured out a flower of flesh and blood on the walls embroidered with elegant lines.

"Killing Chester gives +120 experience points. The gangster boss, who had already escaped from the gate at this time, looked at him from the corner of his eye, and the whole person was stunned——

The witcher was in the shape of a bow, facing in his direction, with Guvihir at the side of his face, like a sharp horn.

The blood flowed under his feet, squirming like a living body, forming a viscous blood pool that spread upward, covering his whole body.

In the hazy, there seems to be a layer of blood-colored flames covering the witcher standing with the sword, he looks like a blood-colored human figure wearing a terrifying battle armor.

The blood light was distorted, and the will to kill became real under the effect of "suppression", and the terrifying scarlet tentacles protruded from the void, hid behind the demon hunter, and kept swaying and swinging.

Whispers that spread fear and despair.

When Alphonse Willie witnessed this scene, he felt dizzy, chest tightness and vomiting, past memories and various afterimages appeared uncontrollably in front of him.

With the power of the Willie Gang, he brutally blackmailed, played with, and tortured the poor people who were ruined and eventually died... The cowardly and incompetent ordinary people who groaned under his feet.

At this moment, the blood-colored flames jumped out and turned into a deadly ghost, pounced on him with fangs and claws, pulling and biting!

"Ah! Don't, don't come here!"

Alphonse was so frightened that he burst into tears, and he could no longer keep his composure.

The ghostly figure tapped his toes and chased behind him in two steps.

"Shuh--" The long sword stabbed diagonally, penetrated the back of the head, and pinned the gangster in the air, like a barbecue on the shelf.

"Kill Alphonse Willy, experience +20, the witcher draws his sword.

The witcher turned his wrist, shook the corpse away, and shook the blood from the sword.

Meteor strode into the corridor.

At the corner of the stairs, two Willie gang members, wielding long swords and mace, screamed and rushed forward.

Roy did not dodge or evade, facing the slashing blade, stepped forward to the right, and Guvihir made a square against the direction of the attack.

Blades clash.

The witcher's strength and skills are even better, and he detaches the opponent's blade, the tip of the sword sticks to the ridge of the sword first, and pierces the soft neck.

"Plop," one person fell to the ground, the dirty blood stained the expensive Oufeier carpet.

The latter man danced into the air with a hammer, and suddenly his movements froze, his eyes widened, and his face was terrified, as if he had seen something extremely terrifying.

His pupils reflected blood, and his body trembled uncontrollably.

The witcher didn't hesitate, toes on the ground, and leaned in for a thrust.

"Shh-"

The blade is impartial, and disappears in the gap of the helmet.

The Mace Man is like a sunken wooden boat, his right eye is blood-stained, his head is lowered, and he kneels forward to the ground.

"It turns out that suppression has such a big impact on ordinary people with low wills."

The witcher went to the second floor.

...

On the other side, above the towering and sturdy walls of Willy Manor, a big man with amber eyes crouched in the rain, his hand was empty, and the blade he was holding suddenly disappeared.

As if he got some kind of signal, he grinned, took the two figures beside him, dropped the corpse beside the sentry tower, and jumped into the manor brazenly.

Through dense rain falls.

The armed men wandering outside the building noticed the change and rushed over to greet each other.

The three witchers collided with dozens of manor guards.

Like wolves entering a flock.

"Wow—"

The steel sword was unsheathed, and Oaks jumped into the center of the crowd with a big jump, twisting his body and slashing!

A stunning arc of light flickered in the air, and the sword edge slid across the body of the two of them.

"Wow—"

Blood sprayed.

The two-part corpse fell on the slippery ground.

…

Phrius turned his body, and at the same time, like a master dancer, he stepped gracefully, and the blade progressed and rotated with the footsteps, turning into a moving whirlwind of death.

Fierce sword light rippling from the sky, anyone within two meters of the body, who is touched by the sword wind, will break their legs and hands, and scream to death.

…

"boom-"

Serrit shoved his left hand forward suddenly.

Alder shattered the air, the magic power tore the defense line, and the fan-shaped area in front of the crowd was instantly emptied.

He took another lunge forward, and taking advantage of the moment when the thug's body was out of balance, he sent the steel sword in his right hand forward, stabbing an eyeball.

"Shu--" He drew his sword and swung it horizontally, cutting the neck of the second person.

Serret slowly exhaled a white breath, the long sword was erected on the side of his face, his eyes were like electricity, and he penetrated the human wall like a broken bamboo.

...

On the other side, the bald man who was talking with the butler Boggart suddenly changed his expression.

"The conversation ends here... Your time has come, Mr. Poggart,"

"What do you mean by that?" The man sitting across from him was talking, his mouth was dry, he took a sip of hot tea, then pricked up his ears, his expression changed, "Wait, what's the sound outside?"

"It's time for you to hit the road!"

At the end of Poggart's life, he heard only a sigh, and then a flower before his eyes.

The sky was spinning, he soared into the air, and below was a headless corpse spewing blood.

...

Inside the manor, a fierce bloody battle broke out suddenly.

But the thunderous shouts of killing, the sound of sharp knives cutting into the flesh, and the splattered blood were all drowned out by a torrential rain.